For, after all, the provincialism was not so marked. There were people who dared the voyage to Europe with as much complacency as the steam traveler of to-day, and who studied the best Europe had to offer. Young men were sent abroad for education; not a few young women had a year or two of finishing abroad. There were noted foreigners, too, who left an impress on society: Albert Gallatin and his charming wife, the learned Swiss scholar and the American girl who had grafted some delightful foreign ways on a very thorough foundation of patriotic culture. Mrs. Monroe was a famous New York beauty who had lost her heart to Virginia, and the Vice President was from the northern State that was slowly accepting the new city. There were foreign ministers and their wives who accepted the republican methods and the dignified simplicity, if it did lack the stately elements of the courts abroad.

Mr. Arthur Jettson was one of the enthusiasts, and already saw great possibilities for the infant city. On the staff of engineers and largely interested in building, he laid the plans of the future before new acquaintances and had the good fortune to interest many. Old David Burns had already made a great fortune in shrewd land speculations. And although the Presidential mansion was toward the eastward, there were many who argued that the trend would be more westward. There was Georgetown, a really thriving place, whose gravity did not depend on Congress in session.

He had already persuaded Mr. Mason to make some investments, though the elder man shook his head rather ruefully at the unpromising aspect as they drove around.

Jaqueline and Patricia were much more interested in the invitations to the party. But the day after the inauguration Lieutenant Ralston came in, though now in citizen's attire, with an eager manner and sparkling eyes.

"I wonder if you could be induced to take the young ladies to a reception to-morrow evening?" he inquired. "It will be rather informal and a crush, to be sure, but they will be able to see both Presidents, though not the White House. That will come later on. Next week the Madisons will no doubt be domiciled there. If you would prefer waiting – "

"Oh, no!" replied Mrs. Jettson. "The crowd will be well worth seeing. I do not despise crowds," laughingly. "Did you go to the ball?"

"Yes, with some brother officers, and wishing all the while your sister could have been there. It was an elegant scene, I assure you. I am proud of the beauty of my countrywomen. Mrs. Madison has been accustomed to honors, to be sure, but this was in a new rôle, as chief lady in her own right. And she graced the occasion. She is charming. We shall have a brilliant administration in spite of the perplexities. Well – you will go, then?"

"We cannot afford to miss it. Mr. Mason talks of returning in a day or two."

"I have hardly seen the young ladies. Can you not lay an embargo on them?"

"I shall try, for my own sake," she returned laughingly. "Thanks for your trouble."

"It is a pleasure to me."

The party had gone out for views of Washington and an inspection of the Capitol. When they returned Jaqueline ran up to Jane's room, her face beaming with interest, since she had been introduced to several representatives. Mrs. Jettson looked up from a pile of finery.

"You suggest a hollyhock in brilliant array," said Jaqueline mirthfully. "Are you going to hold an auction?"

Jane gave a half-amused sigh. "You have had an invitation out, and there is very little time to prepare. I am trying to think what can be altered. There is my pink paduasoy with the race ruffles. I cannot get into the waist any more, but you are so slim. Just try it on. Anything will do for a child like Patty."

"But where to in such fine feather?"

"To the Madisons'. Not a regular levee – something much more informal. Lieutenant Ralston has it in hand. I have my new brocade and the embroidered petticoat. We can take this gown over to Mrs. Walker's, and coax her to make it more youthful. I haven't worn it since Floyd was a baby."

Jaqueline hurried off her woolen frock and slipped into the pretty silken garment. The skirt answered, but the bodice needed considerable alteration.

"And I thought I was slim; Jack, you have an elegant figure. Now we must go at once to Mrs. Walker's, or it may be too late. It's just down Pennsylvania Avenue. Scipio will take it for us, and we will go over and do the marketing. You will like the pink, won't you? It's very becoming."

"Oh, how good you are! Yes, I just adore it. Do you really mean me to have it? How can I thank you?"

Jaqueline patted and caressed it with her soft fingers.

"I did mean it for Dolly, but father is so queer about things – and gowns. He and mother keep in the same little round, with the same friends, and think that it is all-sufficient for the girls. And I'm so afraid Marian will give in to the constant dropping that is said to wear away the stone. Jacky dear," in an almost plaintive tone, "won't you be – that is – I mean – I can't think just how to put it – only you won't try to win away Lieutenant Ralston, will you, dear? I've set my heart on his making a match with Marian. You're so pretty and coquettish!"

The color came and went in Mrs. Jettson's face, and her voice dropped to a pleading cadence.

"Why, no! But what has he to do with – "

"Oh, he brought the invitation! He knows just how to bring about everything. And the Ralstons are delightful people – well-to-do and all that. Marian would be so happy! It is a shame she isn't here. But we must not dawdle. Get into your coat and hat again."

Scipio, the butler and upper servant, came with his best bow and put the parcel carefully into the big basket, covering the delicate stuff with a napkin. Then he trotted along behind the two ladies, looking as if weighty matters devolved upon him.

Mrs. Walker kept three rooms upstairs. In the front one she displayed her goods: silks, velvets and laces, flowers and feathers. She had laid in a new and extensive stock. Two or three women were chaffering. But Mrs. Walker left them presently, and when she heard the errand summoned them into the adjoining room. Jaqueline hated to leave the beautiful show on which her eyes had feasted.

And though women were fond enough of gay attire shipped from London and Paris, and Belgium frippery and laces when they could get them, they were beginning to think it was not always necessary to send to Philadelphia or to New York. And to her stock of materials Mrs. Walker had added a workroom, not so much for the making of garments as the altering and refurbishing of party gowns, caps, and turbans.

Jaqueline was put in the pink gown again, and when Mrs. Walker looked her over she decided upon the sort of bodice there must be for a young girl, and promised to have it done the next afternoon. Scipio would come for it.

Center Market was the only place of account to household purveyors. They went thither followed by the slave, meeting other ladies with an obsequious attendant. Marketing was one of the duties of a good housewife. Some had come in their carriages. There was an exchange of friendliness, as is often the case in the infancy of towns, and some bits of family gossip, some references to the ball at Long's Hotel.

All the others had come in when they returned. Charles had his brain full of marvels. Varina was tired and cross.

"I shall have to send you back home," declared her father. "Indeed, perhaps we had all better go to-morrow. We are to take supper to-night with the Carringtons, over at Georgetown. Jaqueline and Patty, you must go with us – that was Madam Carrington's orders. She has not seen you in a long while."

Annis crept around to her mother and took her hand, looking up wistfully. It seemed as if everyone wanted her mother.

"No, you can't go to-morrow," said Mrs. Jettson. "At least, the girls cannot. They have a state invitation, and I have been to get a proper gown for Jaqueline," and she laughed mischievously.

"Jane!" said the squire sharply; "what nonsense! Jaqueline has gowns and frocks and fal-lals enough. You will make her vainer than a peacock. What is this invitation, pray?"

"To pay our respects to Mr. and Mrs. Madison. Dear me, Randolph, think how father would rail at such republican crowds as have haunted the place to see plain Mr. President! They are to move to the White House early next week, when Mr. Jefferson goes to Monticello; and then, no doubt, there will be more state. But the Madisons have always kept such an open, hospitable house, and welcomed guests so charmingly."

"Jane, you are getting to be an astute politician. No doubt Arthur has his eye on some street or creek or stream for improvement, and is engineering a grant through the House. Not but what Washington needs it badly enough. There's muddy old Tiber, and lanes full of pitfalls, and last year's weeds like battalions of an army. Well, I must not grumble, for I have a finger in the pie. Virginia Avenue, for all its high-sounding name, is a disgrace to the State standing sponsor for it; and I am quite sure my money is buried in bogs. So you and Arthur try your best with the new administration. I'm too old a dog to be apt at new tricks."

"But it isn't Arthur's doings. Lieutenant Ralston is to convoy us thither," returned Jane.

"Well, go and get ready, girls. We will start soon after dinner and return early. Lucky the fandango wasn't to-night, or the brave lieutenant would have to content himself with Jane."

Annis kept close to her mother. After dinner she followed her to her dressing room.

"I suppose, mamma, I couldn't go with you?" she asked wistfully, as her mother was making great puffs out of her abundant hair.

"My dear – there will be all grown people, and nothing to interest a little girl," was the soft reply.

"But I don't mind interest. I could sit very still and watch the rest of you. I – " The child's voice faltered.

Her mother bent over and kissed her, endangering the structure of hair she was piling up.

"Oh, my dear, to-morrow perhaps we will go home and you will have me altogether. It will be only a little while. You see, people do not ask little girls out to tea."

"But you always took me before. Oh, mamma, I can't like all these people, there are too many of them! I do not want anyone but you."

The child clung convulsively to her mother. Patricia Mason's heart was torn between the two loves. For each day she was learning to love her generous, large-hearted husband with a deeper affection, and taking a warmer interest in the children. The hurt and jealous feeling of Annis was very natural; she could hardly blame her little daughter. Indeed, it would have pained her sorely if the child had been easily won away. Yet scenes like this smote the very depths of her soul. As Annis grew older she would understand that nothing could change a mother's love, though circumstances might appear to divide it.

Patricia kissed her tenderly, unclasped her arms, and went on with her preparations. The slow tears coursed each other down the soft cheek in the grave quiet harder to bear than sobs.

"Patty! Patty!" called the good-humored voice up the stairs, "don't prink all the afternoon, or you will outshine your old husband and put him out of temper. Girls, come! The horses are tired of waiting."

A quick footfall sounded on the stair, and Jaqueline's voice was heard laughing gayly. Then Patty the younger, peered into the room.

"Oh, I thought I was the last! Can I do anything for you? Here is your cloak. We are not in summer yet. It really is warmer at home; but I'm glad to be here, all the same. Why, madam mother, you look so pretty and young father will have to introduce us as sisters – the Three Graces. Here are your gloves. Good-by, little Annis. Charles will look after you."

Mrs. Mason kissed her little girl. "Will you not come downstairs?" she whispered.

Annis shook her head.

She heard the merry voices, and presently the sound of the wheels. Then she leaned her head down on a chair, and felt more solitary than in the Kentucky forests.